My husband Rich stopped into Wal-Mart the other day and went over to the pet supplies section to grab a bag of cat litter. Right above the litter they had one of those automated cat litter pans that scoops the poop for you into a little bag after the cat does its business. Rich, loving gadgets the way he does, stopped to check it out.
While he's standing there looking at it, a gravely voice over his shoulder says, "Don't do it, son"
Rich turns around to see a man in his late sixties solemnly shaking his head. " I got myself one of those gadgets for my cats. I mean it sounded great. Five minutes after the cat poops, this rake thing comes out and scoops it into the bag."
The old man sighs heavily. "We're not really sure what happened. All we know is that little Fluffy was standing in the box pinching a loaf when the rake appeared out of nowhere. Scared the holy bejeezus out of her. She let out a yowl and jumped straight into the air before running out of the room. After that she wouldn't have anything to do with the box, and started pooping around it instead. I got rid of the thing and went back to the old box, but it took me weeks to convince her it was safe."
Rich couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. Needless to say, we're sticking with our good old-fashioned, Juno-scooping model of cat box.
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